Morning came with an unexpected surprise.
"What the…?" muttered Vael as he sat up.
A putrid smell hit him like a slap, invading his nostrils the moment he woke.
"Is that… me?" he mumbled, sniffing his shirt with a grimace.
It took a second for the realization to hit: he hadn't washed in weeks. Not since his fight with the Horned Druid.
As he stepped out of the tent, Lucia walked toward him.
Before he could even say a word, she recoiled slightly, her nose wrinkling in visible disgust.
That was all the motivation Vael needed.
Without a word, he turned and made his way to the pond they'd seen a few hundred meters away.
Time for a long, long overdue dip.
The water was cold, but not enough to make him regret the decision.
Vael stripped off his clothes and stepped into the pond, shivering as the water hit his skin. He dunked his head and scrubbed at the dried blood, dirt, and weeks-old grime until his skin felt raw and alive again. His left eye stung slightly when water touched the scar, but he ignored it.
It felt… good.
Not just to be clean, but to feel something normal.
By the time he returned to camp with wet hair and cleaner clothes, the others had already packed up. Lucia raised a single eyebrow in approval. Drako gave him a half-glance and said nothing, as usual. Kiera smirked.
Ash approached him and gave a small nod.
"You smell less like a corpse," she said helpfully.
"I'll take it as a compliment," Vael replied.
And with that, they began their descent into the Final Valley.
The day passed without incident.
The path was narrow and winding, cut between jagged cliffs and steep ridges. Moss-covered stones crunched underfoot, and a thin mist drifted lazily over the valley floor. Occasionally, they heard distant howls echoing through the canyon—low and drawn out—but nothing ever came close.
The group kept a steady pace, heads on a swivel, hands near weapons.
Drako took point, leading them through the safest parts of the trail. According to him, the Corrupted Legionnaire didn't patrol often, sticking to a specific zone. They'd have to cross that zone tomorrow.
Vael found himself glancing around constantly. The valley was… too still.
There was no wind. No birds. Not even the usual rustle of small animals in the underbrush.
It was like the valley itself was holding its breath.
They made camp just before nightfall in a natural alcove of rock, nestled between two crumbling stone pillars. The area was dry, shielded from the wind, and defensible on three sides. Drako even found an old half-collapsed watchtower nearby—probably a leftover from the wars before the world turned to ash.
Ash sat near the fire, arms wrapped around her legs, chin resting on her knees. Her eyes were distant again.
Kiera helped Vael set up the tents. Every once in a while, she glanced toward the shadows beyond the firelight.
"Nothing happened today," she muttered, "but it still feels like we're being watched."
Vael nodded. "I know."
But there were no attacks. No strange noises. Just the flicker of flames, the chill in the air, and the silence of a valley that felt abandoned.
As the fire burned low, one by one, the group drifted into sleep.
The first day in the Final Valley passed quietly.
Too quietly.
Vael stayed up through the night.
The fire had to be put out before complete darkness settled, to avoid drawing unwanted attention.
His second task was to keep watch.
As the others slept, he was mindlessly tending to his rapier when a rustling sound came from the bushes.
From the watchtower, Vael had a clear view of everything—the two tents and the entrance to their temporary hideout.
He immediately jumped down, careful not to make a sound.
As he approached the noise, he noticed a pair of deep blue—almost purple—eyes staring back at him.
They looked human… except they were situated about three meters off the ground.
Vael didn't know what to make of it.
Was it a threat?
Was it friendly?
What even was it?
In the end, he simply stared back.
The being gazed at him like it had been forced to descend from the heavens just to speak with a mere mortal.
It emitted no mana, but there was something about it…
And then, it spoke.
Its voice was cold—unnaturally so. Something that didn't belong to this world.
Like a… deity?
"Someday, you will attain power that will corrupt your very soul," it said.
"When that time comes… we will come to dispose of you."
That was it.
It had spoken the last part like a prophecy—inevitable, absolute.
And then, it vanished. As if it had never been there at all.
Vael stood frozen, shaken. He searched the area for any trace of the being's presence—but found nothing.
Resigned, he climbed back into the watchtower, his thoughts now racing.
He never closed his eyes that night.
Vael didn't sleep.
Even as dawn crept over the jagged cliffs, painting the sky in shades of faint orange, his eyes remained fixed on the patch of earth where the being had stood.
What was that?
A beast?
A ghost?
A god?
Its words clung to him like frostbite. Cold. Lingering.
"We will come and dispose of you."
Not if—but when.
It hadn't made a threat. It had made a promise.
And somehow… it believed it was doing the right thing.
By the time the others woke, Vael was still at his post, face unreadable and eyes distant.
Kiera was the first to notice something was off. She stared at him for a moment, tilting her head.
"You didn't sleep," she said flatly.
"Didn't feel like it."
She didn't pry. She just sat beside him for a while, silently watching the mist swirl through the valley below.
The rest of the group began packing up. Drako double-checked the trail ahead. Lucia sharpened her blade. Ash yawned, her hair sticking out in every direction, the way it always did in the morning.
No one asked what had happened during the night.
And Vael didn't tell them.
Not yet.
As they set off for their second day in the valley, the same eerie silence followed them. The same unnatural stillness.
But now, something else lingered.
A presence.
Something that hadn't been there before.
And while none of the others seemed to notice, Vael could feel it deep in his bones.
High up above, beings far stronger than he could comprehend were gazing at him.
He had been marked.